A River in Egypt
by Reia
Summary: Misao is determined to make Aoshi love her. Aoshi is determined not to fall. However, danger arises and maybe neither has any choice in the matter...
1. I Don't Love You

**A River in Egypt  
by Reia   
xox.lealea.net  
  
Disclaimer: **Kenshin's never been mine. Sigh.

**Summary: **Misao is determined to make Aoshi love her. Aoshi is determined not to fall. However, danger arises and maybe neither has any choice in the matter...

**Author's note: **I know, corny title. :-) Anyway, this story is an exercise in characterization. There's nothing more than I hate than horribly written OOC fics.

I am a fan of Rurouni Kenshin, but I am by no means an expert in the series. This is a test on my end on how well I can write a story about two characters based on character profiles and my personal interpretation of the very little I've read or seen of the series. So pardon me if there are incongruencies with the series. But I have done research... ;-)

Also, I am testing how well I can create romantic and sexual tension until everyone squeals. :-P So please, review and tell me how I'm doing.

Of course, I couldn't help it and added some type of adventure to belly the romance. I hope this is as fun for you as it is for me. I'm writing this story as a way to break the writer's block I have for my better and more popular (preeeeeen!) story, Maybe Another Lifetime (for Cowboy Bebop) Thanks everyone!

* * *

Aoshi Shinamori had been dreading this day for years. He hadn't had any idea when it would occur--he just knew the inevitability of the day. Even though it had been half a decade, it still didn't seem long enough.  
  
Now, at twenty-one years of age, Misao Makimachi, was confessing her undying love to the former okashira of the Oniwabanshu.  
  
She looked beautiful that day, he had to give her that. With Okon's help, he surmised. Misao had released her long hair from the confines of her usual braid, her hair cascading in waves around her figure, and she was wearing a kimono for once. Even more surprising was the light dusting of make up on her face. She no longer looked like a child, but a dazzling, young woman.   
  
Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to crack the case of ice around his heart.  
  
She had used the excuse of a festival for her attire and look, and she brought him tea as an excuse to speak to him. He had tried to avoid her all day. But now... Now, Misao grasped his hand--her own felt cold and was shaking slightly. Oh, Misao... he sighed, inwardly.  
  
"Aoshi-sama," she whispered, which was quite odd since the spirited girl never hesitated to speak at the top of her lungs. "I--"  
  
He didn't want to hear the words. He didn't want to hear the carefully crafted speech he knew she must have made in the wee hours of the evening previous. She was still such a naive, young girl.  
  
He pulled his hand abruptly from her gentle hold, and levelled a steady gaze towards her. He stifled another sigh as he registered the hurt look in the blue depths of her stare. For the past five years, he had hoped time would help remove her girlish crush towards him. He didn't want to hurt Misao, and hoped that she would find some nice boy around her age to fixate on, but the young okashira was stubborn and barely registered any callers that came by. He hadn't done anything to encourage her behaviour, but she persisted.  
  
"Misao," Aoshi said with as much calm and coolness as he could muster. "Just don't."  
  
Misao blinked, slightly startled at his tone and how he seemed to have sensed exactly what she was about to say. She looked self-consciously down at herself. She hadn't thought she was _that_ obvious--she had made some excuse over the reason why she was dressed the way she was over some passing festival. But then again, her Aoshi-sama always had an uncanny ability to read her thoughts and feelings like no other.  
  
"I don't understand, Aoshi-sama," she said finally, plastering a wide smile across her face. Her cheeks began to hurt at the effort. She hadn't said anything yet, and already he was rejecting her. She noticed his eyes narrow but she couldn't read any expression on his face. She hated that--how he seemed privy to whatever she was thinking and feeling, but she had no clue what he thought in return.  
  
"I think you do, okashira," he said, and the smile was wiped off her face at his impersonal tone. He hadn't even bothered to address her by her name. He took a step back and crossed his arms across his broad chest. "Move on. You need to...move on."  
  
He managed to sound even mildly chastising. It hurt Misao more than she could bare. Even now, he still treated her like a child. Her sight became blurry, but she willed herself not to cry. Oh, gods, she was not going to cry in front of Aoshi and prove to him she was a child. She lowered her head, breaking each other's gaze, and bit her lip.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said, with only the slightest hint of regret. She took in a shaky breath and flashed him a watery smile. She nodded, unable to speak lest she say something both of them would regret. She hadn't... she hadn't even confessed yet, and already he was brushing her off. Had he known all along? Was she that stupid and naive?"Why...? Why not?" Misao choked out anyway, against her better judgement. A tear streaked down her pale face.  
  
"It's not meant to be," Aoshi replied, simply. A piece of his cool facade faltered as he took in her eyes, the pain in them blatantly apparent. He uncrossed his arms and he itched to wrap the young girl in them, as he did in the past to comfort her. However, he could not protect and comfort her from himself.  
  
"Go find the love you deserve."  
  
"But Aoshi-sama! There can be no one else for me!" The cry came from the depths of her soul. "No one! I love you! _You_!"  
  
There. She had said it. Those three dreaded words Aoshi hadn't wanted to hear. The words echoed silently in the garden, and he stared at her for a few moments before turning his back and saying quietly, "But I do not love you."

* * *

Review please!  



	2. The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Women

**A River in Egypt  
**

**by Reia   
**

**  
Disclaimer: **Kenshin's never been mine. Sigh.

**Summary: **Misao is determined to make Aoshi love her. Aoshi is determined not to fall. However, danger arises and maybe neither has any choice in the matter...

**Author's note: **OK, the first chapter was more of a prologue than anything. I was testing to see how much reaction I would get for something so short. Meanwhile, I'm also going to test how it's like posting chapters of different sizes. I'm known for long chapters (though, in the book world, it's about average) but let's see how this story flows with different sizes throughout.

---

**Chapter 2: The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Women.**

---

Misao trudged up the path to the temple with her tea tray in her hands. She bit her bottom lip in trepidation, wondering how this meeting would go. Less than 24 hours ago, she had practically thrown her heart out and had it squashed in the matter of minutes. Aoshi hadn't returned to the Aoiya until the wee hours of the night (Misao always was aware of his comings and goings) when everyone was settled in their rooms, asleep in bed. Misao wondered where he had gone, what he had been doing—If the reason he didn't come to dinner was because he was avoiding her.

The night previous, Misao, Okon, and Omasu talked and talked until they were too tired to continue. Unfazed by Aoshi's latest rejection, Okon helped hash out what he called a "fool-proof" plan to get Aoshi. Treating him as a "mission" would help her gain slight objectivity in the situation—enough so that she can use the skills she had learned and trained with all her life to get the man she loved. It was a ridiculous plan, but desperate times called for desperate measures: Aoshi had already rejected her, so another rejection would only bring her back to where she was now. However, if anything else happened...

And that was what she was hoping for. The "anything else." Misao had pretty much lost hope after Aoshi's very cold dismissal the other day, but Misao being the ever-optimistic girl she was, couldn't pass up one last opportunity.

Misao opened the doors to the temple and was relieved when she saw Aoshi sitting in the middle of the floor, where he always meditated, and incense burning in front of him. It was a citrusy type of incense mixed with the scent of the forest, and Misao always found it a relaxing and pleasant smell. It was Aoshi's smell. She had almost thought he wouldn't be in the temple, since he had only made a brief appearance during breakfast and had hastily disappeared for places unknown.

"Aoshi-sama!" Misao called, pleasantly. "I brought you your tea!"

No answer.

"Aoshi-sama?" Misao prompted, padding softly towards his figure. She knelt down and set the tea tray onto the floor off to the side and slightly in front of Aoshi. Now on all fours, Misao peered up into Aoshi's face.

His eyes were closed, his bangs almost covering them up. His chiseled features were relaxed and blank, his lips parting slightly. He looked so... at peace, Misao thought.

"Aoshi-sama?" Misao whispered. Still, no answer.

Aoshi was probably in deep meditation. When he did that, it was like a state between sleep and wakefulness, completely aware of only himself. Impishly, Misao took her hand and waved it in front of him. She stifled a giggle when he didn't respond. She sighed, smiling. He looked so beautiful when he meditated. It was like he was asleep, and had no cares in the world, no burden to hold. At one time, Aoshi had tried to teach Misao how to meditate, but she had gotten restless and given up on it entirely. She never had that type of patience.

She inched closer to him, hardly aware that she was doing so. She just wanted to be near him. He smelled so good, he looked so good. Here, in this temple, wearing just his temple robes, sitting so still and solid—he was like a statue to behold. A god brought down to earth, in the form of a man. Her perfect Aoshi.

Her eyes were drawn to his lips. For years, she had fantasized how they would feel on hers. Would he be gentle? Would he be passionate? Would he be hard? A million and one scenarios had buzzed through her mind throughout the years, and none of them had ever surfaced enough for reality. He had such beautifully formed lips—the lines of them were thin, but they looked soft. They were used to frown very much, and Misao lamented how she had promised to bring back his smile. Still, she was unsuccessful in that mission to this day.

Misao didn't have many regrets, but she did wonder sometimes what it would feel like to be kissed thoroughly, and be kissed well. At twenty-one years of age, Misao was embarrassed to say she had never kissed a boy in her life, such was her devotion to Aoshi. She never even considered looking at another man the way she did Aoshi—she blushed faintly. Although, she had to admit, there were some stirrings within her when she had met and traveled with Kenshin. But, she decided, that was largely because he was an amazing person, and Misao doubted that any woman could resist his charms—and the rurouni hadn't even tried to sway her in any way. He had just been himself.

Misao had thought being herself would have been enough to sway Aoshi. Unfortunately, it wasn't.

Misao inched closer. She wondered... she wondered if she laid a small, chaste kiss on his lips if he'd notice. He was so deep in meditation, it would be like he was asleep, wouldn't it? Would he notice at all? Okon and Omasu did suggest using her ninja skills to get Aoshi... She could be stealthy about it. She could _steal_ a kiss if she wanted to—and he wouldn't know. Misao licked her suddenly dry lips and swallowed nervously. Could she do it? She lifted her chin. _Dare_ she do it? She leaned forward. What if Aoshi caught her--? Her lips parted. What if--?

"Misao."

Misao cried out startled, falling back onto the hard floor with a thud. Eyes that were previously closed were very much open. Cool blue eyes surveyed her intently. She couldn't read his expression, and frankly, the rapid beating of her heart was enough to scramble her brain.

"What were you doing?" Aoshi demanded, softly. Misao paled before turning three shades of red. He couldn't have... have figured out what she had been _planning _to do? He was in deep meditation! Or... or had he been faking it, and known how close she had been all along? Misao couldn't tell. His expression was like stone.

"I-I brought you y-your tea!" Misao got out. She made a lunge towards the tea set on the ground and in her haste, knocked a cup over. Fortunately, there was nothing in there to spill, but as she got hold of hot tea kettle, her hand was shaking. Long, strong fingers touched her waving hand.

"Misao," Aoshi repeated, and Misao put the kettle down, laughing nervously.

"I-I don't know what's gotten into me, I-I'm such a klutz and, and I..." Misao babbled incoherently, her head whipping blindly around her. How embarrassing. Surely he knew what she had been trying to do. He was a master ninja, of course, a former _okashira_. Using any ninja skills on him would be useless!

"We need to talk," Aoshi interrupted, and Misao fell silent as his eyes pinned her still. She was always at the mercy of his gaze.

"Yes, Aoshi-sama?" Misao's voice was hesitant.

"I wish for us to remain friends, despite the events of yesterday," Aoshi said, bluntly. Misao blushed.

"E-eh, of-of course," Misao stammered. "That was never in question!"

Aoshi narrowed his eyes slightly, but he nodded. "I do not want you to feel awkward in my presence, okashira. I wish for things to continue as they did before."

Misao nodded, trying to fight back the tears that were threatening to resurface. His tone was so... indifferent. And him calling her "okashira" sounded harsh in her ears. It sounded like he was talking about the weather and her title made her seemed more removed from him than ever. Did he really care so little...?

"I... I'll just go then," Misao muttered and was getting ready to leave when Aoshi suddenly gripped her arm. She frowned in surprise, a shudder passing down her length she could not suppress.

"I wish for things to continue as they did before," Aoshi repeated, his cool eyes rendering her immobile. "Do not feel the need to leave. Let us share our tea like we have always done." He paused and his grip on her wrist slackened. "Please."

It was nearly Misao's undoing. She struggled within herself, before sighing and acquiescing. Okon and Omasu told her for part one of her mission, she should act completely normal—as if they hadn't plotted and schemed the night previous. She sat down and was glad that her hands were no longer shaking as she poured them both tea. As Misao handed the tea to Aoshi, their fingertips brushed each other and she couldn't prevent the jolt of electricity that ran down her arm. Everytime they touched, even accidental, Misao felt from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. It warmed her completely.

"Thank you," Aoshi murmured, then sipped his tea.

For some reason, it caused Misao to blush. She gulped down her tea quickly, her thoughts muddled. When she was sixteen, her heart had fluttered wildly whenever she interacted with Aoshi... now, as a woman of twenty-one years, instead of the years calming her down, her emotions grew more out of control. And worse, her body was too. She couldn't help it. She would have strange urges to suddenly throw herself onto Aoshi and have his hands to touch her all over. If a simple brush of the fingertips were enough to cause her to flush, she wondered how it would feel if their entire bodies, bare and naked as they were born, would touch.

Misao knew, as a virgin, she was expected to be ashamed of these thoughts or purge them, but the thought of Aoshi and her sharing something two people in love would, was too beautiful to be corrupted. What she couldn't have in reality, she surely could have in her dreams... She sighed. Would she die an old spinster pining away for a unrealistic love? Would she turn bitter and frustrated? She smiled. No, that wouldn't happen. Most likely, she'd turn into a female version of her dirty-minded Jiya.

It was then she noticed that Aoshi was staring at her, an eyebrow slightly raised.

"Something amuses you?" Aoshi asked. Misao ducked her head, embarassed. Was her thoughts so transparent on her face?

"Aa," Misao muttered, not unlike Aoshi usually did. "I was just thinking what I'd be like when I'm older."

Aoshi didn't reply to that and merely regarded her silently. Misao both loved and hated that about Aoshi—she could barely tell what was going on in his mind, but at the same time, it made him seem all the more mysterious. He always looked like he was analyzing her, as if she was a puzzle he had yet to solve. It made Misao glad, because then she wasn't being as transparent as she knew she tended to be.

"Do you ever think of growing older?" Misao asked, lightly. She poured both of them another cup of green tea. "I mean, when you're a really old man?"

"Actually, no, I haven't."

That surprised Misao. She tilted her head. "Why not?"

Aoshi looked away for a moment, before turning his eyes back to her, his expression unchanged. "I have never believed I would live to see that day."

Misao's breath hitched and she bit her lip. "Oh."

A small silence fell on them again, and Misao sipped her tea gingerly this time, brooding slightly. Aoshi was such a serious man and she hardly saw a time when his guard was dropped. Even though she knew Aoshi trusted her, and she him, she could almost feel a physical barrier between them. He barely touched her, except unless it was an accident or necessary, like when he helped her with her ninja forms or weapons. In fact, she sometimes noticed he made careful considerations so there'd be no way they would touch.

He hardly made the initiative to speak to her—it was always Misao starting a conversation. He was purposely keeping himself detached. She often wondered why, even after all these years, Aoshi made himself that way. She knew that beneath all those layers of ice, was a warm and loving heart.

She ached for him. Not just for herself—but for himself, as well. Every day he would go to the temple to meditate, and to atone for his sins, and every day, he didn't seem to be any closer to redemption—in his eyes, at least. It was very hard, and took very long, for the Oniwabanshu to accept him back. After all his betrayals, they simply didn't trust him, despite Misao's approval. Jiya was properly cautious concerning Aoshi, and Misao's heart twisted as she recalled how her surrogate grandfather almost died at the hands of her love. Though, eventually, as the years passed, people grew to accept Aoshi again as well as forgive him. Things were back to normal, almost before any of the unpleasantness of the war, before Hannya and the others died.

Aoshi, even in his youth—as far back as Misao could remember—had always been a quiet person. In fact, he was always slightly intimidating, and his piercing eyes had never lost its power. However, he had always been gentle, slow to anger, and—yes—he smiled. He smiled quite often. In fact, he even laughed. Misao was proud to know that she was the source of a lot of that merriment. It made Misao ache knowing that the young Aoshi was deeply buried in this shell of a man. This hardened block of ice, his true essense encased like a fly in amber found by the rocks of a volcano. A remnant of the past, crystallized only in memory...

"Something the matter?"

Misao was startled out of her thoughts at Aoshi's query. He was looking at her with that same intense gaze, and she fought the urge to squirm.

"Ah, no," Misao replied. "Why do you ask?"

Aoshi took a sip of his tea. "You're unusually quiet and frowning." He lowered his tea cup to the floor and met her eyes again. "Misao, I understand it may take quite some time to... adjust." Misao blinked at his choice of words as he continued on, "And I know you feel unhappy over... the recent events."

Misao winced. "A-Aoshi-sama—"

"Let me finish," Aoshi interrupted, lifting a hand. He sighed. "I do not wish to hurt you. But, I could not let you continue on believing in something that does not exist."

Misao bit her lip, trying to stop the rising panic in her breast. Okon and Omasu had warned her that the next couple of weeks will be hard, and that Aoshi would probably do his damndest to push her away, and to justify his rejection. But she had to be strong. She waited.

Aoshi seemed a little surprised at Misao's lack of response, but he went on, "However, I am not naïve enough to believe into thinking that things will be exactly the same immediately. It will take time. But, I hope in the meantime, we try to behave as normally as possibile."

Misao blinked rapidly, trying not to cry. It was hard hearing it. The rejection being repeated over to her, explained plainly as if she was a dumb child. She understood, she wanted to yell at him. She _knew_ what he had been thinking. She knew that he had wanted to maintain the status quo.

But it was time she did something for _herself_ and not for him. The past ten years were all for him: his wants, his needs, his thoughts, his feelings. This time, Misao was going for what _she_ wanted and that was _not_ the status quo. She wanted chaos. She wanted life.

She wanted love.

She wanted to scream.

Misao nodded stiffly, the effort of keeping a straight face straining her emotional resources. "I understand, Aoshi-sama."

Then suddenly, she was out the temple door, her legs pumping hard. She hadn't even realised she left the temple and had been running the whole way until she reached the Aoiya and collapsed noisily in the hallway, gasping and grasping for air. Tears blurred her vision. Okon and Omasu suddenly appeared, apparently after hearing her fall, and they were on her like bees on honey, and buzzing with concern.

Dimly, Misao realised had left the tea tray behind in the temple.


	3. The Mission Impossible

**A River in Egypt  
**

**by Reia   
**

**  
Disclaimer: **Kenshin's never been mine. Sigh.

**Summary: **Misao is determined to make Aoshi love her. Aoshi is determined not to fall. However, danger arises and maybe neither has any choice in the matter...

**Author's note: **Aww... five reviews? Well, I hope I get more with this chapter—a sort of deeper plot is revealed! Wahooo....

---

**Chapter 3: The Mission Impossible.**

---

It had to be done.

With that grim thought, Aoshi finished the last of the tea. It was tasteless and bland, even though Misao had prepared him his favorite type of green tea. However, he couldn't bring himself to enjoy it—not without her presence, and knowing he had once again, broke her heart. It made him ache inside.

It had to be done.

Aoshi had felt Misao's presense the moment she entered the temple. He had remained deep in his meditation, but had found himself easily distracted by her scent and her lilting voice. She always sounded so...happy. He had also felt her pause when he hadn't responded to her calls. Suddenly, the scent of her clean river-washed hair filled his nostrils and he breathed in deeply...

Did she ever smell good. She smelled like the air after it had rained—fresh and sweet. It reminded him of long walks down the forest, of laughter, or kindness. She smelled clean. She smelled pure.

She smelled like everything he wasn't.

He had kept his hands and body perfectly still while he tried to clear his mind, but Misao had been inching closer and closer to him—her proximity almost pushing him to the edge. She had wanted to kiss him. This much he knew, as he had felt her sweet breath hovering over his own. He just had to wait, or move an inch to close the gap between them. Again, her gall was surprising. She was always forward, but she always shyed away from these types of confrontation. Frighteningly, Aoshi couldn't say he was displeased with the change.

However, he came to his senses in time. Barely. He cursed himself for even letting it go that far. He didn't want to give her mixed signals. He wanted her to be clear that there was to be no future for them together—not the future Misao wanted or deserved, as any rate.

Aoshi blew out his incense and put away his meditating supplies in the temple, then gathered the tea tray and its contents with him as he exited. He wouldn't find peace today. He wondered if his request for things to remain the same was futile. He knew that Misao had been pining for him for years, but he hadn't done anything to encourage them. However, things had changed yesterday—her confession seemed to have been a final try on Misao's behalf to get him to love her. He never thought she would get so bold, but then again, this was Misao. Now, the unspoken was out in the open and Aoshi could no longer deny or ignore it. He couldn't pretend it was just some girlish crush when she spelled out clearly she was a woman with strong feelings. He only had to _look_ at her and realise she was no longer a girl, but a very desirable young woman.

He clenched his fist. He just didn't deserve her. No matter how much she convinced herself, she didn't really want him—she wanted a ghost. She wanted a memory. She didn't want who he was now; she pined for someone who died a long time ago, with his comrades in battle. Not this facade of a man. Throughout the years, Aoshi contemplated leaving the Aoiya for good, but Misao made it very clear that if anything of the sort would occur, she would either fall apart or stubbornly follow him to the ends of the earth. Both options would cause pain to Misao. Aoshi didn't wish that, so he stayed, and he went to the temple every morning, trying to ease his torment.

He needed somehow to distract himself from this complicated situation. He needed to speak to Okina.

He needed a new mission.

---

Okon had insisted that it was due time that Misao started practicing her authority more. As the okashira of the Oniwabanshu, Misao had certain responsibilities, which she was ashamed to admit, she'd neglected since they were in peaceful times. Though the restaurant did fairly well, in order to keep their reputation, the Oniwabanshu still did a few missions here and there—nothing too dangerous. Usually, they were hired as expensive bodyguards to lords during their travels, or as expensive delivery people. Occasionally, they even did minor things like spying on suspected infidelities and report back to the jilted husband about his dishonorable wife's activities, or vice versa. That service was becoming a lot more common these days, Misao reflected dryly. It wasn't necessarily something that was high-profile, but it paid the bills and kept people aware that the Oniwabanshu was still in business and a force to be reckoned with.

Though, almost everything went straight to Okina. When there was a request, Okina would handle it—the processing, the briefing, the assigning of the activities... He would always ask for Misao's presence during these meetings, but Misao was mostly just a nodding head. Sometimes Aoshi would even take over, when Okina was "indisposed" (i.e. off at the brothel again). Misao was left mostly to just help run the restaurant and practice her kunai and other ninja skills.

Omasu had agreed with Okon that in order for Misao to solidify her stance in the Oniwabanshu, she had to take responsibility. An added bonus, they had reflected, was that it was a way to prove to Aoshi she was a capable woman. An equal. As a former okashira, he had to look at her as the true okashira at present. It wouldn't work if Misao always deflected her power to Okina, and even Aoshi.

With this conviction in her mind, she visited Okina in his office, who was plugging away on some paper work.

"Oi, Jiya," Misao murmured at the doorway. At the sound of her voice, the old man lifted his head and smiled widely.

"Hello my pretty Misao," Okina greeted cheerfully. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"You're such a charmer," Misao giggled. Okina waggled his brows.

"You better believe it, young lady," Okina returned, putting his pen down. "What can I do for you?"

"Jiya," Misao began, hesitantly. "I..."

Okina's smile disappeared at the troubled look on Misao's face. "What is it?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, Jiya," Misao rushed. "But... I no longer want you to... to work like this."

Okina's brows knitted. "I don't understand."

Misao straightened her shoulders and cleared her throat. "I have been a horrible leader, because I've been deflecting most of my responsibilities to you and haven't taken initiative to work on them myself."

At Misao's explanation, Okina's body relaxed and he smiled. "You have been a wonderful leader, Misao. You have helped bring the Oniwabanshu back together."

Misao shook her head. "That's not true. I let you do all the work. You or Aoshi-sama."

Okina looked amused. "Misao, the Oniwabanshu has not received very many serious missions over the past five years, so it may have been natural for you to relinquish some of your hold as the leader. During times of trouble, you've proven yourself a thousand times over. When peaceful times finally came, I was more than happy to take away some of the burden from you. In fact, do you not remember how I had to force you to _stop_ taking all of the responsibility?"

Okina walked over to Misao and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"However, make no mistake that _you_ are the okashira. The Makimachi line begins and ends with you."

At his last sentence, Misao squirmed. "That sounds so morbid."

"Ah, but one day you will find a strong husband which you will love and who will help you lead our group. Then your children can begin a new line of strong ninjas, just like their mother," Okina said, gently. Misao's eyes misted over. How she loved her Jiya.

"But I want... I want to do _more_," Misao insisted. Okina smirked.

"Stubborn girl. Very well, then. I will cease what I am doing and transfer the work off to you," Okina told her. "And I shall be nothing but another ninja of the Oniwabanshu."

"You'll never be just another ninja, Jiya," Misao whispered. Okina smiled gently.

"I know, my dear girl," Okina told her and sighed. "But not a girl much longer. A woman. A very fine woman, in fact. If I had half the mind, and half the age..." Okina leered at her teasingly, and Misao playfully punched him away.

"Jiya!" Misao protested. Okina laughed, heartily. He bowed extravagantly.

"Well, okashira, I shall leave you to your duties and I shall wait until you call upon me for your service," Okina said, grandly. He glanced at the parchments on the desk and noticed her slight grimace. "I'm afraid some of these duties aren't as glamorous as they may seem."

Misao gave him a determined look. "I will make you proud of me, Jiya. I will be the best okashira the Oniwabanshu has ever known."

Okina's eyes became strangely bright. "My dear girl, you've already made me more proud than you will ever know."

---

Aoshi was clad all in black, and wore his three belts on his hip, his beige trenchcoat hanging on his fingers behind his shoulder as he strode towards Okina's office. He was sure the old man had some pressing mission he could take care of at the moment. There was always some little assignment here and there. Aoshi didn't care what it was—just as long as it kept his mind busy and free of Misao.

Unfortunately, fate had a strange sense of humour and when he slid the door open of Okina's office he saw Misao was sitting where the old man usually was. She was poring over sheets of paper, confusion marring her face slightly. Her dark head lifted and relief shone in her eyes when she recognized him.

"Aoshi-sama, thank God you're here," Misao exclaimed. Aoshi stiffened, his heart clenching in slight panic. Had something happened to Okina? Was that why she was in his desk, looking so dreadfully lost?

"Where is Okina?" Aoshi asked, automatically. Misao shrugged, surprisingly unconcerned.

"Probably at the brothel again," Misao returned. She waved him towards the desk. "Aoshi-sama, could you please explain to me what this means? It's like a competely other language!"

Aoshi frowned slightly, before looking at the parchment held out to him. "That is because it's written in Chinese."

Misao coloured, embarassed at her ignorance. "Oh."

"Kanji and some Chinese letterings may be interchangeable," Aoshi murmured, to ease some of Misao's discomfort. "It can be easily confused to the untrained eye."

"Do you understand what it says?" Misao ventured. Aoshi scanned the paper more thoroughly.

"It is a flyer explaining a new shop opening up in the marketplace that specialises in Chinese artifacts and goods," Aoshi explained, placing the paper down. Misao pursed her lips, pouting. Aoshi felt his eyes drawn to them. He quickly looked away.

"Well,"Misao huffed, not noticing Aoshi's actions. "Jiya certainly is disorganized, having flyers and important documents mixed in together. It's a good thing I came by before that was mistaken for a mission."

"Where did you find this?" Aoshi asked. Misao passed him a file on the desk and he scanned its contents quickly.

"It _is_ part of a mission, Misao," Aoshi told her. The shop was a stake-out place.

"What?" Misao gasped. "How's that possible?"

"Didn't you read the other things in this folder?"

Misao shook her head, embarassed further. "I was too confused at that one sheet, I hadn't even tried looking into it too deeply."

"Okina didn't brief you thoroughly on this assignment?" Aoshi said, faint surprise in his voice. Misao shrugged.

"Ah, no. It's not my assignment," Misao said. "I still have to read it and figure out what the mission _is_ before I assign anyone to it."

Aoshi found himself staring at her with more blatant surprise. "_You_ assign?"

Misao stiffened at his tone of voice. "I am the okashira of the Oniwabanshu and I reminded Jiya today of that. He thoughtfully stepped down from his responsibilities, and now I'm going to be re-taking up leadership responsibilities concerning the Oniwabanshu."

Aoshi was more than a little bit shocked. His only explanation was that either Okina was ill or that there was something more going on.

"And no, Jiya's not sick, and neither am I," Misao said irritably, reading his thoughts perfectly. "I just thought it was about time I live up to my name."

Aoshi didn't know what to say to that, so he said nothing and stared at her half with admiration and half with confusion. Misao squirmed underneath his scrutiny.

"Were you looking for Jiya about a mission, Aoshi-sama?" Misao asked, and Aoshi nodded curtly. She turned slightly and looked at Okina's—_her_ desk. "Was it something you've already been working on?"

"No."

"Oh! Well. Let's see what we have here..." Misao began searching through the pile.

"This mission is fine," Aoshi told her, holding up the file already in his hand. Misao turned and blinked at him widely.

"Oh! Okay..." Misao said, slightly unsure. Then she straightened her back and held out her hand. "I'd like to look at that first please, before I make a decision."

Aoshi's brow quirked up but he said nothing as he handed her the file. Strangely, Aoshi felt something tug at the corners of his mouth. Misao could be so amusing when she tried to be in control.

Misao pored through the notes, nodding and making a few noises here and there. Aoshi wondered if she really understood what was going on. She paused. "This mission recommends that two people need to share the responsibility."

"Recommended, but not necessary," Aoshi pointed out.

"Mm hm," Misao murmured pacing. She jumped slightly and landed on top of the table, crossing her bare legs as she did so. Aoshi couldn't help but notice that they were no longer skinny and small, but were well-shaped, curvy, and yet muscular. He frowned.

"You shouldn't be wearing that anymore," Aoshi found himself saying. Misao lifted startled eyes to him. She looked down at herself, self-consciously. She was wearing her old ninja uniform, and it still fit her quite well.

"What do you mean?" Misao asked, confused. "What's wrong with my uniform?"

Aoshi's lips tightened, as he realised she must have been wearing this outfit all over the place—walking out in the streets of Kyoto, baring her legs like a wanton. It was fine if she did so in the comfort of the Aoiya. She would be safe from prying eyes in their establishment. However, she wasn't protected elsewhere...

"It's inappropriate," he said. Misao's brows shot to her hairline.

"I've worn this for _years_," Misao gasped. "Why's it 'inappropriate' now?"

Aoshi realised his mistake then and quickly tried to cover it up. "It's your childhood gi," Aoshi said, smoothly. "As okashira, you should dress to reflect your status and wear more adult clothing."

Misao's jaw hung open, and she gaped at him, completely oblivious to what he was trying to state. She was so innocent at times, she hardly understood the minds of men. She was too protected, he thought. Which, he realized, was his own fault.

"You are a _woman_ now, Misao," Aoshi clarified, his eyes briefly resting at her bare legs, hoping she would get the idea. Misao followed his gaze, and coloured. Despite that, she looked at him defiantly.

"Well..." she said, her lips twisting. "So _now_ you admit I'm a woman."

Aoshi kept his gaze even as he looked at Misao. "I've been aware."

Misao's cheeks darkened further. "Well, I like this outfit. I won't stop wearing it, but—" she went on in a rush to interrupt Aoshi, "--I may decide on choosing some other type of attire if appropriateness deems it."

Aoshi wasn't exactly pleased with her answer, but it would have to do for now.

"As you said, Aoshi-sama, I am no longer a child. I can take care of myself," Misao mentioned. "You should know that."

Aoshi said nothing. She sighed.

"Very well. It seems simple enough of an assignment, but those are always the most devious," Misao said, returning back to the subject at hand. "We always get shop keepers trying to get us to spy on the other shops in order to see what new goods they have or prices or who their suppliers are, but it can also easily be a cover up for a secret gang of some sort."

She tilted her head. "You are more than capable of handling this, Aoshi-sama, but I would like you to come back and report to me after today and tell me the details."

Aoshi blinked. One moment, Misao was the flustered young girl he remembered, and the next she was a mature and collected woman.

"Aoshi-sama?" Misao ventured, when he still hadn't replied. He gave her a curt nod.

"Yes, of course," he said quietly, then turned on his heel and walked away.


	4. Missions and Misunderstandings

**A River in Egypt  
**

**by Reia  
**

**  
Disclaimer: **Kenshin's never been mine. Sigh.

**Summary: **Misao is determined to make Aoshi love her. Aoshi is determined not to fall. However, danger arises and maybe neither has any choice in the matter...

**Author's note: **Aww... five reviews? Well, I hope I get more with this chapter—a sort of deeper plot is revealed! Wahooo....

---

**Chapter 4: Missions and Misunderstandings  
**

---

Aoshi stifled a cry of pain as he half-limped towards Misao's office. Even though it was late at night, she still had to have been there judging from the light spilling out of the cracks of the door. He sighed and tried to straighten as he reached the office, masking his pain as to not alarm Misao.

Her earlier suspicions about the simple shop being a cover-up for something more sinister had been right. He had been doing some routing spying when he noticed a young child being dragged into the back of the Chinese shop. There had been some indecipherable shouting, all in Cantonese that Aoshi couldn't understand. Aoshi hadn't stopped to think when he saw one of the men unsheath his sword and looked to swing it towards the boy. Whether it was a killing blow or a maiming one, Aoshi didn't know and didn't care. He saw a helpless boy and acted to save him.

The men had been simple enough to subdue, but then another man appeared out of nowhere. He battled with Aoshi briefly before the young boy's cries were heard above the din of violence who was tearfully trying to explain that Aoshi was not one of the men who'd attacked him and had actually come to save him. The man who had come in was revealed to be the younger one's older brother.

It was ironic that it an ally would be the one who caused more injury than any of the others.

The young man was slightly shorter than him, which wasn't unusual. He was a little bit younger as well, with a tuft of sandy hair brushing against watchful green eyes that matched the smaller boy's. What was also interesting was that his fighting technique was nothing he'd ever seen in Japan, and he used some discarded ornamental chopsticks to deflect some of his kodachi's blows, which amazed Aoshi. After quickly scurrying out of the shop, the young man and his little brother explained the situation further.

Iori Takeda was the youngest boy's name, and Aoshi recognized him as the young musical prodigy. He played several instruments, but at 10 years old, was a master of the shamisen and shukachi. His older brother by fifteen years was Kaze Takeda, and his sole guardian. In fact, he had been the one to dispatch the help of Oniwabanshu. Aoshi wanted to probe more into the subject, but Kaze told him that it would be best to speak better the next day after rest and reflection, at the Takeda mansion.

Kaze had then casually thrown Aoshi a bag of money as if was worth nothing more than rice, and told him that it was extra pay for a job well done protecting his brother and for injuries inflicted by the shady men.

Kaze failed to apologize for attacking him however, something Aoshi did not lightly dismiss. Aoshi did not trust him, and decided that this mission's status was going to increase exponentially. However, despite the danger of the evening, Aoshi's blood roared through his veins and he felt alive for the first time in years. It had been a while since he had engaged in a mission that was actually worth an Oniwabanshu ninja's attention.

He was about to relate the evening's events to Misao when he paused at sound of his name coming from behind the door. It was Okon's voice.

"There is no way in hell Aoshi will _ever_ figure it out. Don't worry, Misao!"

Aoshi stiffened and listened further, lowering his ki to remain undetected.

"Not if you make sure you do everything _according to plan_. Use those ninja skills you were born with!" That was Omasu speaking now. Aoshi frowned. Plan? Ninja skills...?

"It's so deceitful though." Misao's voice sounded uneasy. "It's not like me."

"Even better. You'll get him when he least expects it," Okon said, sounding gleeful. "Then BAM!"

Aoshi was slightly startled when Okon must have hit Misao's desk at her exclamation.

"He won't know what hit him!" Okon cackled. Aoshi clenched his fist, wondering what they were plotting against him, and why they were trying to recruit Misao to their cause. He knew that the Oniwabanshu would never completely accept him, if it wasn't for Misao. But now, Okon and Omasu seemed determined to sway Misao against him. They must have known what had happened a couple of days prior—they probably wanted to take advantage of Misao's emotional state. It seemed very unlike Okon and Omasu to be cruelly manipulative, but from the sounds of it, that was what it was like.

Okon's declaration was shocking enough, but what followed afterwards seared into Aoshi's mind.

Misao's roaring laughter filled the room. "You're right, Okon. No more Miss Nice Misao. By the time I'm through, he won't know which way is up. The bastard deserves all he's going to get!"

This was followed by more laughter by Okon and Omasu. Aoshi squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the ache that suddenly gripped his insides. He felt physically ill. Misao... His Misao was _plotting_ against _him_? Not that he didn't deserve it, by God, but... he had trusted her.

Their laughter continued.

He couldn't listen any further. Gritting his teeth, he stalked away from the room and away from the Aoiya.

---

Misao lifted her head and blinked curiously at the door. Okon and Omasu followed her gaze, confused.

"What's wrong, Misao?" Omasu asked. Misao shook her head and shrugged, fighting back a sudden chill.

"It's nothing. I just thought I heard something," Misao dismissed. She sighed loudly. "Anyway, this love business sure is complicated."

"Honey, if you never thought about it like a war, you've been playing the wrong game this entire time," Okon drawled, cynically. Omasu giggled and posed with flourish.

"Love is _always_ a battle," she declared, causing all the girls to burst into giggles.

"But seriously though," Okon said, after they had recovered. "Don't sweat so much about it but you gotta treat your man like a mission. Gotta gain that bit of objectivity so you can actually follow through with the plan."

Omasu nodded. "Yah, today it may have seemed like nothing will change, but you have to give it time and let the plan go forward a bit first before you throw in the towel. You've got nothing else to lose here, Misao. But everything to gain."

Misao bit her lip, conflicted. She had had her doubts when Okon and Omasu first concocted this plan to help her get Aoshi's romantic attention, but Misao was at the point where she would do just about anything to get anywhere with her relationship with Aoshi. She couldn't pine away forever!

"I know. But it's going to be weird just calling him by his name," Misao muttered. "And I dunno... I don't know if I can... 'flirt' with him." Misao burst into nervous giggles, her face flushing. "I'm just not good at that stuff."

"Like I said, treat it like a ninja mission, _okashira_," Okon repeated. "It's all about playing a character, being sly. You've done it before in other missions. Your character for tomorrow has to be familiar and coy."

"But not too much," Omasu interrupted. "Or else he'd suspect something was up or he'd be turned off."

Misao grimaced. "This is too complicated."

"Nonsense. This is just the beginning," Okon tittered. "Anyway, Omasu and I'll give you pointers. Now here's what you do..."

---

Misao found it odd to find that Aoshi was not in his room that evening. The ninja girls told Misao that her behaviour was bordering on stalker-ish, and should leave well enough alone until the next day. However, Misao knew Aoshi and he was nothing but a creature of habit. Knowing he wasn't asleep in his room very late at night—or was it the morning?--made Misao ill at ease.

She hovered around the darkened hallways of the Aoiya fretting, when she stopped in her tracks.

Her eyes snapped wide open as she realised the last time she spoke to him, she had sent him off to a mission! Her heart began to beat erratically as the worst case scenarios played in her head. She should have sent an extra person! Okina has specifically written down that the mission may have needed two people! Panicked, Misao started sprinting towards the exit of the Aoiya, with all intentions to find that Chinese shop Aoshi had been stationed in.

However, her journey was cut abruptly when she ploughed onto something and promptly fell flat on her back, legs and arms akimbo. The solid block she collided against grunted in equal amount of shock. Automatically, Misao's hands grasped her hidden kunai and she positioned herself defensively. She blinked as she adjusted her vision and stared up at the shadowed face of her love. She immediately hid her kunai.

"Aoshi-sama!" she yelled in relief. Realizing how loud she sounded, she slapped her hands against her mouth. She chuckled uneasily, releasing her mouth and speaking in a much managable decibel level. "Ah, I'm sorry about that. I wasn't watching where I was going."

The hallway around the sleeping quarters was very dim, and Misao could barely make out Aoshi's face, except for the whites of his eyes.

"You're up very late," he observed, coolly.

"So are you," Misao returned. She pouted. "Why are you home so late?"

"It doesn't concern you," he said tightly, then made a move to go past her. Misao's jaw dropped at his rudeness, too shocked to be offended by it. She grabbed at his side to stop him from going further, but he winced at her touch and she recoiled in horror.

"You're in pain!" Misao breathed, scrambling to his side and forcing his arm to go over her shoulders so he could lean on her. He stiffened and snatched his arm back and took a definite step away from her.

"I can walk perfectly fine, Misao. Go to bed," he ordered.

"Not until you tell me how you got hurt!" Misao demanded. She felt tension radiate from him in small waves and despite the darkness, she could tell he wasn't very pleased with her persistence. However, he was hurt and Misao for once didn't care what Aoshi thought. They stared at each other silently, before Misao growled loudly.

"Fine! Get to your room by _yourself!_" Misao gruffed, then stomped away in a huff.

Once he knew she was out of viewing and hearing distance, Aoshi slouched and sighed, running a tired hand across his face. By gods, he was tired. Heart and soul tired. He padded his way into his room, and lit a couple of his laterns on to provide better lighting. The moon shone through his window, but it wasn't adequate enough to be able to see everything.

After hearing Misao's planned betrayal, Aoshi had walked hours on end down the valley and stream near the Aoiya, which was just by the temple. Alone in his thoughts, he blamed himself for the deterioration of his relationship with the girl. He knew that at one point, her feelings for him hadn't been an act. He would stake his life on that. But now, he began questioning her recent actions. As the years passed, and Misao grew older and more lovely, she had become more bold in her pursuit for his affections. Though, she was still painfully shy except for the last couple of days where she had actually confessed her love, and then the next day, had tried to kiss him!

Perhaps it was all part of her "plan" to disarm him. He had no idea what in the world she could possibly do to harm him. Perhaps it just wasn't safe for him to be in the Aoiya anymore. If Misao had a plan against him, the rest of the Oniwabanshu may as well be involved.

As he continued thinking, he decided that there was no better fate for him, than to die by the hands of someone he so admired. If he was to die, even in betrayal, he would let no other person than Misao to make the fatal blow. He had thought that dying in battle, against someone like Battousai or Shishio, would have been more honorable. He sighed again. Maybe he had no idea what honor was, anymore.

He had removed his trenchcoat and his shirt, and was about to remove his belts when his door swished open. In a blink, he had a kodachi in his hand and was pointing straight at his assailant. There was a clatter as something dropped on the floor and big blue eyes widened impossibly further. Aoshi cursed as he noticed it was Misao at his door.

"What are you doing here?" Aoshi demanded quietly, lowering his kodachi but not unsheathing it. He hadn't quite accepted Misao's betrayal, and he sure as hell wasn't going down without a fight. He knew, physically and skillfully, he was much more superior than Misao was... but Misao was playing a more dangerous game. One that involved the mind. He may have the advantage of years and experience, but Misao had the advantage of the heart.

"I found the first aid kit," Misao told him. He noticed her eyes lower as she regarded his bare torso, which would have been an immaculate sight if it wasn't marred by long, thin scars. Aoshi had always been very careful during any of his fights, but he wasn't superhuman by any means. He had learned to make peace with his scars—it taught him humility, and that no one was indestructible. Battousai had been the one who had quietly told him that scars weren't anything to be ashamed of, no more than a wrinkle by your eyes which was a reflection of years of laughter and smiles. Scars were something that was part of you, that will forever mark you as a survivor.

Misao's expression was confused. She had never seen him this barely dressed before, and was probably the first time she even noticed her "perfect" Aoshi-sama was anything but—at least physically. He couldn't tell if she was disgusted or not. When she lifted her eyes towards him again, they showed no changing emotion.

"There's not much we can do about those bruises, except maybe ointment," Misao pondered aloud and she lowered herself onto the ground to rifle within the first aid kit Takani-sensei had put together for them. She found a small packet and handed it towards Aoshi.

"I'm sure you can... uh, put it on yourself," Misao said a tad tremulously, the first time she showed any sort of discomfort in the situation. He tilted his head and regarded her oval face more thoroughly. Was she blushing?

He didn't say anything and Misao left in another quick huff, babbling incoherently to herself. It was something Aoshi noticed she would do whenever she was nervous or confused.

He was only wearing his robe when Misao swished in his room again, unannounced. He stifled a growl of annoyance at her boldness and familiarity—he supposed that her tomboyish upbringing didn't teach her adequately enough to knock or be fazed by walking into a man's room in the middle of the night. Though, to her credit, she looked slightly startled at his state of undress. He wasn't uncomfortable with her seeing him that way in the least, but he knew it was just highly inappropriate.

He supposed he had never minded before when she would clamber in his room, but those times had been during the day, and when he was calm and in control of his emotions, his mind clear. However, the evening was another creature all together. The evening was welcome to his nightmares and his awful thoughts.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously at her, and she seemed taken aback at his more than colder attitude towards her.

"I brought you some tea, to help you relax," Misao explained softly, lowering herself onto the floor to pour him some of the hot liquid. "And so we can talk about your mission this afternoon."

"Thank you for the tea," Aoshi said distantly, "But we can better discuss business tomorrow."

Misao nodded absently as she passed him his tea cup, and poured herself one. Aoshi shook his head slightly. She wasn't getting the hint, or, he suspected, she was purposely playing ignorant. He lowered the tea to the ground and was about to dismiss her when Misao opened her mouth.

"Aoshi," Misao began, and the lack of honorific was not missed on the strong ninja. "What's wrong? You're mad at me."

Aoshi was surprised. she could tell. "I'm tired, Misao." At least that was true.

Her eyes were shimmering when she lifted them to meet his gaze. "I was worried about you, when you didn't come home on time."

"I'm a grown man, Misao. I can be left to my own devices," Aoshi said coolly, ignoring how his insides twisted at her distraught expression. It was probably just for show.

"I know that," Misao said, her frustration becoming evident. "That's not the point!"

Then, Misao did something that surprised him even more. She didn't even hesitate as she closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around his neck. He could feel moisture touch his neck as she burried her face against the crook of it. He stiffened in shock.

"You may not love me," Misao said, her lips moving against his skin. Was she trying to drive him crazy? He suppressed a shudder. She went on, "But I do, and worrying about you is just part of that. Please don't be mad at me."

Despite himself, Aoshi felt his arms wrap around the small girl in a familiar embrace. When was the last time Misao and he had embraced? It had been a long time. When she was still a child... Misao had always been exuberant and generous with her bear hugs, but there seemed to have been an unspoken rule that excluded Aoshi from these actions. There were many things Aoshi noticed that Misao would do with the others that she would either hesitate in sharing with him or completely avoid doing altogether. It never really had bothered Aoshi before, but now with her in his arms, he was feeling pangs of regret.

How long they stayed in that quiet embrace, Aoshi did not know, but as she pulled away Aoshi had to resist the urge to pull her back. Already, he was missing her touch, which he knew was foolhardy. He regarded Misao and decided this woman-child was more dangerous than any of the foes he'd ever faced.

---

Misao's only thoughts were scattered when she had barged into his room while he was undressing. She had been to busy admiring him to be even embarassed about it. She had had glimpses of his bare chest before, but never like this in its full glory. She had stupidly gaped at him, shocked at his scars and was even more shocked at how much more appealing he suddenly was because of them. And by goodness, his abs were like a washboard! But of course they would be, Misao thought smugly. This was her Aoshi-sama.

She hoped she had hidden her blatant desire, and if he did notice, he hadn't made a comment. She supposed that she was being a little bit of a nuisance, but she loved fussing around Aoshi. It made her feel like he needed her, even if that wasn't true. She hadn't really been thinking when she made him some tea—it was so automatic for her to do so when she suspected Aoshi needed to relax, that when she entered his room again, she had forgotten he'd been getting ready to sleep.

Her brain scrambled to say something coherent, and she remembered she had been waiting up for him so he could brief her on his assignment of the day. She marvelled at how steady her voice was when she had explained it to him. It hurt though, when she felt him close himself and withdraw, and he was looking at her with something akin to anger and distrust. It was so foreign to Misao that it bewildered her, not to mention hurt her like nothing else. Tears had pricked her eyes. Her immedate reaction was to apologize and so without thinking, she had thrown her arms around him and hugged him.

She had expected no reaction, but Aoshi's arms were firm and sure as they wrapped themselves around her frame. She automatically slumped against him, the feel of his body both comforting and exciting. It had been so long since Aoshi had held her, before he had left the Aoiya, before the war, before any innocence was lost.

She pulled away when she realised that they had been holding each other an inordinate amount of time, wondering what Aoshi was thinking. His eyes were hooded, and Misao wasn't sure what to make of that.

She fought down a rising flush as she realised she had just been sitting alone in a room with an attractive, half-naked man in the middle of the night, and had just finished hugging him in such a familiar way.

"G-goodnight, Aoshi-sa--" Misao paused, remembering her newfound conviction to address him informally. "Aoshi."

She got to her feet and headed towards the door when Aoshi called out her name. She turned. "Yes?"

His gaze flickered as he seemed to contemplate his next words. They came out a husky whisper. "Good night."


End file.
